


【 往昔之荣耀 | Glory of the Past 】

by MTKiseki



Category: Hikaru no Go, 全职高手 - 蝴蝶蓝 | Quánzhí Gāoshǒu - Húdié Lán, 全职高手 | The King's Avatar (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Development, Character Study, Flashbacks, Go | Weiqi, Minor Canonical Character(s), POV Alternating, Reincarnation, Supernatural Elements, eSports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-09-17 04:19:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16967553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MTKiseki/pseuds/MTKiseki
Summary: “Ten years…a thousand years…there is no difference. I will always seek Glory—the Divine Move.”Tears dripping soundlessly into a still lake, rippling water dragging him further underneath…Crushing loss, cast adrift, with nothing to hold on to…Bright laughter, the sunshine in his perpetually blank life…Passion, filling him once more; joy, tugging him back to the past; love, tying him down from his aimless wandering…The strongest memories of your life are more often than not your last.Death is simply another barrier to overcome.





	1. 01 | Aji-keshi 味消し | Xiāo Yú Wèi 消余味

**Author's Note:**

> _Erasing possibility…_

_A single decision ripples in directions both foreseen and not; to look only at desire and not at truth, not at reality, erases the potential resting just beneath the waters._

* * *

Soft strumming, the rustling of the wind, the gurgling of the brook...that was all he remembered when he woke up, eyes blinking sleepily. Once again, the remnants of his dreams disappear like smoke, stealing away during the hazy transition from slumber to awareness. He looked outside, and nothing had changed.

Empty, lifeless, but the sun continued to rise and fall; the moon continued to wax and wane. And so, he rose, slipping on worn slippers and padding his way out of his room. His fingers, as usual, brush lightly across a smooth wooden surface, the feel of the aged material sending shocks through his body. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine that room shadowed in eternal darkness, where the only shining lights was the universe being built.

If he closed his eyes, he felt as if he could still sense _him_ , still feel _his_ presence like a cloak over his shoulders, still hear _him_ speak with that soft, enchanting lilt.

But then, when he opened his eyes again, he would be met with only air, and the disappointment would crash over him once again.

For a moment, he had hoped.

For a moment, his dreams transcended to reality.

For a moment, he thought for certain…

Nothing.

It was only in his dreams that he could meet _him_ again.

Shaking his head in resignation, he let his fingers slip past the edge of the board, his feet continuing to carry him out to greet the new day.

* * *

“Ye Qiu,” Su Mucheng called out softly, pulling Ye Qiu from his reverie. She sighed softly when she saw the slightly dazed look in his eyes. “I made you some tea, drink.” She set the cup of green tea on the coaster, making sure to keep it some distance away from the technology. With Ye Qiu in this state, it was better to be safe than sorry.

Slowly, Ye Qiu came back to life. “Mucheng? Oh, thank you for the tea,” he said, his voice a bit hoarse from a lack of use.

She frowned, noting that she should come by more often to check up on him. She herself was busy dealing with her sponsorships representing Team Excellent Era, but that didn’t mean she would have no time for her brother in all but blood. She would just have to...make some time.

A glance at the clock told her it was half past five. “Have you eaten?” she asked, though she felt like she already knew the answer.

Ye Qiu’s hands hovered over the keyboard for a second, before descending onto the keys and stirring the alternate account avatar out of idleness. “Not yet,” he replied eventually. “You know I haven’t had the appetite.”

“Still?” Su Mucheng sighed in disappointment—at herself, for being unable to remind him to eat properly; at him, for not taking care of himself by eating meals properly; or at the situation in general. “I’ll go...prepare you some congee?” It came out as a question, since she wasn’t sure if he could stomach even that.

Ye Qiu’s lips twitched slightly, but other than that, his expression was as blank as ever. “Sure, I should be able to keep that down.” His voice was much better now, but he still had yet to touch the tea she made.

“Drink some tea,” she urged, turning around to leave after saying her piece. Just before she closed the door shut behind her, however, she tossed back, “If I can find Qiu Fei, I’ll send him over to keep you company. Staying shut in all the time doesn’t do you any good.”

Neither would it do him any good to be around most of their team, but they really had run out of options. Su Mucheng heard the door close with a ‘click,’ and released the slight breath she was holding. Her hands felt cold, a bit clammy, rather than warm after holding the fresh cup of tea she had made for him. Out of the corner of her eye, something flashed, but a second glance revealed to her an empty hallway. Shaking her head slightly, she walked quietly down the hall and around the corner to the area designated for the trainees. It was a bit far from the team quarters, but it only made sense in the end, she supposed. She remembered when there was no training camp, just the internet cafe and upstairs loft.

 _Now,_ she thought, _it sometimes feels as if I’m a stranger in an unfamiliar land._

The walls felt as if they were closing down on her, the well-lit path too harsh in its brightness. Sleek and modern, it felt jarring to someone like her, who was used to the warmth and wear of a lived-in home. Su Mucheng wasn’t sure how Ye Qiu felt about the clubhouse, even years after the team had moved in. Still, the slight frowns and random pauses as his eye caught on something told her that he was, at the very least, unsettled like she was at times.

The Team Excellent Era they were now a part of...felt nothing like it used to. Were they even a part of Team Excellent Era, or simply relics from the past?

She didn’t know, and each step felt heavier as this thought sank in.

She didn’t know when things had begun to change, with the team, with Ye Qiu, with the situation in general, with herself——but she knew she didn’t like it at all.

Why couldn’t things go back to the way they were before? Before...before her brother died, before the Glory Professional Alliance existed, before _Glory_ released.

Why couldn’t it just be her, her brother, and Ye Qiu? In their small apartment with just the three of them, long nights of talking and fun and just...nothing at all like the present.

Su Mucheng blinked back the tears pooling at the corners of her eyes, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. This was neither the time nor place to have a life-crisis.

“Su Mucheng?”

Spinning on her heel, she found herself facing a familiar face. “Did you need something, Zhang Jiaxing?”

“No, but I was wondering why you’re standing still in the middle of the hallway. Is something wrong?” he asked in concern, moving a bit closer to take a better look.  When he caught sight of the tears stubbornly pooling in her eyes, he froze, eyes widening in surprise. “Su Mucheng, is everything all right?”

“Ah.” Su Mucheng pressed her right hand delicately to her cheekbone, coming back with a dry hand. “I was just reminiscing,” she explained carefully, each word deliberate and clear enough for Zhang Jiaxing to draw conclusions but not enough for him to learn more about her personal life.

Zhang Jiaxing frowned at the deflection, but there was not much he could do with her having positioned herself quite clearly. “If you are in need of any assistance, be it a hand or an attentive ear, do not hesitate in seeking me out,” he offered. Su Mucheng nodded in thanks but didn’t reply. He awkwardly waited for a moment before continuing, “Oh, right, Manager Cui is looking for you. He had more details about your next sponsorship, that clothing line?”

“Right, right,” Su Mucheng responded, recalling that she had been contemplating a contract offer. It took some effort to keep the frown off her face, however, as she didn’t recall mentioning this to the management at all. Did they go above her head again?

“He’s waiting for you in his office,” Zhang Jiaxing added, his voice drawing her out of her thoughts.

“Thanks for telling me, Zhang Jiaxing. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at training?” Su Mucheng waved at him before turning to leave, the light in her eyes dimming the moment he left her vision. She took a turn down a different hallway, the darker coloring of the walls and carpet tugging at the fringes of her mind for some reason.

Soon, she found herself at her destination. Knocking twice, she waited for a response before entering.

“You wished to see me, Manager Cui?” she asked, her tone polite and courteous.

Cui Li silently shuffled the papers in front of him for a moment, letting her stew in silence, not even acknowledging her fully. Su Mucheng maintained the smile on her face, her dimples showing slightly. After all, there was nothing wrong with smiling.

Not many sought to look behind a smile.

“Su Mucheng, how have you been?” Cui Li set down the documents in his hand and looked up at her. “Have things been going well? You seem a bit tired.”

His implications didn’t slip by her, but Su Mucheng just crinkled her eyes slightly, her smile becoming a touch brighter. “I’m doing very well, and you?” The lie fell easily from her lips, like many others along similar veins.

“Good, good. Things are looking up for Excellent Era. Meilleure has reached out to you about sponsoring their products. They seem to be marketing toward the younger female generation and hope that you, the beauty of the Alliance, will be their gateway into that demographic,” Cui Li explained. He gestured for her to take a seat and then rotated the contract on the table so it faced her. “This is the price they are willing to offer for your image, as well as the requirements for representing their brand and core values. For the most part, you fit it pretty well. The main concern would be, of course, your career, but they care more about your appearance and personality than on what you do as a living.”

Su Mucheng silently read the contract they had given the management. This was not at all similar to what she had been given when they reached out to her as an individual. This contract linked Team Excellent Era to the brand itself; she, as the sole female on the main roster, would be the main female representative, but...were they still trying to get Ye Qiu to partake in commercials and interviews?

“He won’t accept this contract,” Su Mucheng stated, avoiding her own stance on the matter. After all, she had accepted most of the contracts sent her way; as long as nothing concerning the brand stood against her values, she normally accepted them for the good of the team.

“We know.”

Su Mucheng glanced briefly up and caught the slight downward crease of Cui Li’s lips before it disappeared. She went back to looking through the terms, her eyes carefully scanning each line and deciphering the fine print behind it. Unconsciously, she mouthed the words as she reread certain phrases, her brows furrowing slightly.

For the most part, the contract appeared decent, until she got to the clause about being expected to represent Meilleure overseas as well. She knew in the back of her mind that the brand was an international one, but she had not expected this. Her commercial value was not that high, was it?

“I’m not sure, Manager Cui,” she murmured as she continued reading the rest of the contract. She would have been perfectly fine with signing if it was not for that stipulation. “I would rather not have my training impacted by overseas work. Perhaps during the off-season, something can be worked out, but not while we’re midway through the regular season.”

Cui Li visibly frowned this time, his displeasure not being kept a secret from her. “This is a great chance to expand your horizons and bring much needed funding to the team, Su Mucheng.”

 _But don’t we have enough funding with all the sponsorships I am already bringing in?_ Su Mucheng thought. In the wake of her debut, sponsorships came flooding in. Her ability to play on somewhat equal ground to Ye Qiu had pushed her to a higher level of stardom compared to Chu Yunxiu, who had less coverage and fame despite having—Su Mucheng admitted to herself—more talent. Su Mucheng knew she was not as naturally inclined to gaming as her dear brother had been, but her devotion and practice meant her skill was nothing to scoff at.

She took a moment to collect her thoughts and word them in a less scathing manner. “Regardless, my highest priority should be increasing Excellent Era’s position in the rankings and aiming for the championship. The sponsorships I have at the moment are more than enough for this season. I intend to contact Meilleure in order to work out an agreement on possibly working with them during the off-season, but I refuse to reduce my training practice time even further. My apologies, Manager Cui, for being unable to feasibly take up this sponsorship immediately.”

“Mucheng, you do understand Team Excellent Era’s position right now, don’t you?” Cui Li asked, folding his hands in front of him. He leaned forward slightly, looking her straight in the eye. “Team Excellent Era would be lucky to not get relegated with how we’ve been progressing.”

Su Mucheng stared back at him with calm eyes, her smile fixed on her face. “Yes, I do.” _But whose fault is that?_ “But we are still only just entering the Winter Transfer Window, meaning we have the latter half of the season to climb our way back up the rankings.”

“That is our intention,” was all Cui Li said, voice low.

“Then there is no reason for me to take time off to fulfill sponsorships when we are in for a long haul, no?” Su Mucheng stood up and smoothed out her skirt. “Thank you for negotiating with Meilleure on my behalf, Manager Cui, but my decision will not change. I will see you tomorrow for the weekly team-management meeting.” Bowing slightly, she turned to leave.

“Before you leave—” Her footsteps stopped the moment she heard his voice. Her smile tightened a bit; why did she feel as if his voice had become silkier, no, slimier? “—please tell Ye Qiu that the team has a last-minute meeting tonight in...oh, this talk took longer than I expected. It’s in five minutes. I’ll see the two of you in the conference room.”

Cui Li brushed past her, his shoulder just barely avoiding a collision with hers. She stared at his suit-clad back, the anxiety brewing in the back of her mind suddenly overflowing.

No.

This...the confrontation was happening _now_ of all times?

Su Mucheng dug her nails into the palms of her hands deep enough to leave imprints. Taking a few deep breaths, she forced her nerves down. With a steady but brisk walk, she headed straight to Ye Qiu’s room, each step feeling as if she was walking through quicksand. When she found herself in front of the door, she realized she had not been able to bring him congee as she had said she would.

Her hand rested against the door, her energy draining out of her. She didn’t want to enter, didn’t want to break the fragile ceasefire, didn’t want to draw Ye Qiu from one desolate state to another one.

The team was forcing her hand.

For that brief moment, with her hand flat against Ye Qiu’s door, with her eyes closed and head bowed, Su Mucheng wished that she was more assertive, more outspoken, simply _more_.

Ye Qiu didn’t deserve this.

She didn’t bother knocking and opened the door with a bang. It instantly caused the room’s sole occupant to pause in his typing, though his head did not turn to face her.

“Here?” he asked bluntly. He removed the cigarette hanging from his mouth and blew out one last smoke ring before stubbing it into the ashtray.

Su Mucheng released the breath she didn’t know she had been holding. That state seemed to have left Ye Qiu, which mean he at least wouldn’t be so vulnerable when facing Cui Li and the others. “Here.” She shifted slightly, her gaze flitting to the monitor where 『 Glory 』was still visible. He was well enough to battle in the Arena, which was better than she could hope for.

Ye Qiu’s fingers flew across the keyboard to leave a parting comment for his opponent. He rejected the rematch request and gently pulled out the account card from the scanner. He tucked the account card away into a card box on the desk and went to grab his coat from the coat rack. Only then did he turn to face Su Mucheng.

When Su Mucheng saw his face, hers fell.

“Let us leave then,” Ye Qiu stated.

A trembling smile graced Su Mucheng’s face. “Yes, let’s go, Ye Qiu.”

* * *

His hand paused over the board, trembling for a slight moment.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing is wrong. I just felt a chill.” He did not—not really. It had felt like a dagger being traced down his soul, warningly. A simple breeze blowing in from the open window would not have caused him to shiver so suddenly. He was made of sterner stuff.

“Do you want me to close the window? It wouldn’t do for you to fall sick.” Concern laced the other’s voice, causing him to flash a grin in response.

“Don’t worry,” he replied, “I’m not as delicate as you are.”

“Who are you—!”

“Heh, still can’t take a joke, can you~” he teased, causing the other to bristle in annoyance. Laughter welled up inside him, but some part of him couldn’t help but wither at how _fake_ he was being. His fingers itched to wrap around the folding fan set to the side. The feel of silk and bamboo would settle him instantly, he knew, but it would also be an inexplicable sign that something was wrong.

He took a breath and brought his hand down to the board, allowing the stone to land with a sharp, piercing ‘clack.’ In his mind, the stone caused ripples to swallow up the board, waves and tsunamis rearranging the battlefield. In his mind, stars died and rebirthed anew. In his mind, reality fell to illusion.

In his mind, soft, tinkling laughter echoed in his ears, lighter than rain falling on petals, brighter than the sun rising above the horizon.

A blink of his eyes, and the illusion shattered; all that was left before him was a simple board of black and white and lines.

“Your turn.”

* * *

As they walked down the hall toward the conference room, Su Mucheng found the silence stifling. The glaringly bright display screens felt mocking, the statistics reminding her the reason behind this confrontation.

「 Ranking: Team Excellent Era, number 19 — second to last place 」

Those words haunted her. She was not Wu Xuefeng; she was not able to fill the void he left.

Her being Ye Qiu’s partner was not the same as Wu Xuefeng being Ye Qiu’s partner, and she knew that very well.

After all, since she joined, Excellent Era drifted further and further from the championship. Part of her knew this was only to be expected with the level of playing having risen sharply with her generation, the so-called ‘Golden Generation,’ but was it simply correlation?

She didn’t know.

A glance at Ye Qiu revealed to her nothing. The same blankness, the same mechanical feel, the same aura of _ancient_ that radiated from his form...Ye Qiu had not left the state she had first found him in tonight, to her horror.

Each step he took was a glide. Straight back, head held high, fluid movements—it was the stranger in Ye Qiu’s skin again.

 _Who are you?_ she thought even as she matched pace, stumbling a bit while trying to keep up since Ye Qiu was taking full advantage of his height for once. _Who are you, this person that is sometimes Ye Qiu but not?_ She did not know when she began differentiating _this_ Ye Qiu to the Ye Qiu she preferred being around, but she could remember the presence of _this_ Ye Qiu since the beginning.

 _This_ Ye Qiu had always existed, from what she knew, but had usually been silent—until her brother’s death cracked something within Ye Qiu, broken some foundation that caused _this_ Ye Qiu to emerge more frequently.

But even her brother’s death had only brought _this_ Ye Qiu out on occasion. It was...it was…

Su Mucheng’s thoughts came to an abrupt halt when they stepped into the spacious conference room. The rest of the team was already inside—Manager Cui Li standing front and center, waiting for them. She scanned the room with a single sweep, her eyes falling on the young man lounging in the chair at the head of the table.

That…

“You requested our presence, Manager Cui Li, for what reason?” Ye Qiu’s voice cut through her thoughts, causing her to tear her gaze away to refocus on the situation at hand. “What could not have awaited the coming of the next day?”

Su Mucheng internally winced at the formality of _this_ Ye Qiu’s speech. Cui Li had just opened his mouth to speak when Ye Qiu asked, no, _demanded_ , an explanation.

Cui Li closed his mouth sharply, his eyes narrowing. This peculiarity did not slip by him either, but Ye Qiu’s shift in personality had thrown him off, his intended words changing.

“Some things, Ye Qiu, are best done swiftly, as you should know.”

Ye Qiu simply nodded, his eyes never drifting from Cui Li’s form. “Then shall we start the meeting? Seats first, for standing about while conversing on such urgent matters is not proper protocol.”

“There is no need for that,” Cui Li tersely stated. “As you can see, we are welcoming last season’s Best Rookie into Team Excellent Era. Management has already decided that Sun Xiang will take over your position as captain.”

Silence filled the room.

Cui Li, as if to aggravate the situation even further, added, “This should be of no surprise to you. Ye Qiu, you have done Excellent Era a great service, having led us to three consecutive championships. You have given us a dynasty, but—” Cui Li paused, meeting Ye Qiu squarely in the eyes, “Excellent Era seeks more than that. We seek the future; the past has no place where Excellent Era intends to soar. One Autumn Leaf’s title of Battle God has never once been in question.”

Su Mucheng watched on, frozen. No, this...this was not happening.

“Thus, hand over One Autumn Leaf to Sun Xiang. He will assume command and continue your legacy.”

_Seek the future..._

_The past has no place…_

_Has never once been in question…_

_Continue your legacy…_

Cui Li’s words rung in Su Mucheng’s ears like a distant foghorn, muffled yet resounding.

“That’s——!” A soft touch stole Su Mucheng’s voice, her head whirling around to look at the hand’s owner. “Ye Qiu, this isn’t right!”

“It’s expected,” Ye Qiu said softly, a hint of warning edging his words. “Calm down.”

“Calm?” She wanted to argue right then and there that there was _nothing_ about this situation to be calm about, but the flash of darkness in his eyes quelled her anger immediately.

“Ye Qiu, your card,” Cui Li reminded him, amusement tugging at his lips at the squabble happening before him. “Or are you becoming forgetful at your age?”

Su Mucheng’s temper flared up again at the completely unnecessary and _absolutely untrue_ jab. She turned to tear into Cui Li, only to get interrupted.

“Brother Ye, I’m sorry for taking your position as soon as I arrived.” Sun Xiang finally spoke up, straightening from his slouched position in his armchair. Ruffling a hand through his hair, he continued, “I will do my best to make the title Battle God ring throughout Glory. You have my word.”

 _You...you...you’re not even sorry! Liar! Thief! How dare you; how_ **_dare_ ** _you!_ Su Mucheng bristled with rage, her vision flickering at the edges. She had never felt this angry before, this wrathful. What was worse was Ye Qiu not defending himself. Well, if he wasn’t going to end this farce, she was!

Footsteps—soft, but echoing—filled the tense air.

Leaving her side, Ye Qiu walked forward, face relaxed, moving as if he had not a care in the world—no, as if he existed _beyond_ the world, as if——

When she saw the complete stillness, that damn _blankness_ in his eyes, fear caught her in a stranglehold.

——as if he had already left the world.


	2. 02 | Aji 味 | Yú Wèi 余味

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unless something happens, this _should_ be released on a weekly basis. Thank you to **kagehana_tsukio** for being my ~~guinea pig~~ soundboard. This was supposed to be my NaNoWriMo project, but then school happened, causing it to be pushed aside for my studies.
> 
> Thank you for all your support! This is a rather unusual crossover, but I hope you all enjoy~  
>  ~~I would love to hear your thoughts and theories, so comment below if you so please! ~~~~~~

_Lingering possibilities left in place…_

_Potential shifts within a single moment, yet lasts for eternity—an eternity which stretches beyond death to rebirth._

* * *

He knew something was wrong the moment he stepped into the room, the sensation of water lapping at his feet too realistic to be simply a figment of the mind. His clothing felt heavy, awkward, like too much weight for his body to bear, like stones dragging him under further. His head felt bereft yet not, his neck tingling with a chill that he could not place. He tucked his hands into his pockets, trying to warm them yet failing, the chill too deep for a snowy winter night and too piercing to be from a simple breeze.

Ye Qiu stepped into the room as himself...and began disappearing the moment he did.

Cracking, shattering, breaking into countless shards until even the stars in the sky could not hold a candle to his scattered brilliance.

Ye Qiu breathed in, his eyes flaring with light, as he walked forward, silently asking Cui Li for an explanation in regards to this unexpected meeting.

* * *

Before that, however, he had already been disassociating again.

Before stepping into the room, he had already been drifting, his mind detached from reality.

Before, before, before…

_What happened before?_

Concern piercing through him, tracelessly—a part of him acknowledged Su Mucheng’s worry, but it did little to dispel the fog clouding his vision.

Falling, endlessly; sinking, heartbroken—his soul drifting in the still lake in a cycle of _chosei,_ of _eternal life._

Returning to the same state, the same position, never free, never imprisoned, simply _there_ ——that was he.

Shards, along the fringes, disappeared bit by bit. Parts of himself, those aspects that made him who he was, lost to the erosion of time. Like ink-wash calligraphy, fading further with each brush stroke.

Soon, he had become nothing more than an imprint, a hollow memory left to roam the earth with infinite _aji_ bound by his cursed immortality.

His dream became an obsession; his ambition, a curse.

Resonation—things called to him, the lilting notes of strummed strings, the trilling chords of flute melodies, the feel of polished shell tucked between nail and skin...it called to him incessantly for no reason he had been able to discern.

Like now, walking forward, accepting his fate with an open embrace.

The growing anticipation, the growing feeling of loss and resignation...this was nothing new to him.

 _But why, for he should have no reason to feel like this; this was not him, so_ **_why_ ** _does it feel like he was stuck in an eternal cycle._

* * *

The walk felt like an eternity, each step wading deeper into the darkness, into infinity. Words rang in his ears, akin to the humming of cicadas, the buzzing of dragonfly wings, the rustling of reeds, the lapping of water against the shore. Still, he walked forward, back straight, head tossed back, eyes blazing. There was no hesitation in his movements, no regrets. What had he done to regret? Everything led to this moment, be it through fate or luck, this path was his own, became his own. Even though he knew, he _knew_ from the look in Cui Li's eyes, from the presence of the outsider within the midst of their club, from the jeers and mocking eyes of his colleagues, he _knew_ but did nothing.

This...this was meant to be, wasn't it?

Ye Qiu briefly closed his eyes for a moment, letting the aura sweep over him, letting the hidden malice within the surroundings to wash over him ineffectually.

Whatever he did, he would do it with honor, with glory, with pride.

* * *

A voice his yet not spoke, chiding, lofty, expectant...the words he knew yet felt no connection to.

Formality exuding from his form, the disregard and unconcern disappearing in its emergence.

 _“You who speak in prettied words.”_ He glided forward, moving unhindered through the audience until his prey was in sight. _“Sincerity is neither a favored friend nor a welcomed ally. Truth clouded by the self-deception you have shrouded yourself within, tell this unworthy person——what is_ **_glory_ ** _to you? Is it the the calm tempering your rage, the spark blazing into passion, the gentle touch grounding you, the limitless sky forever out of reach? Is it the reason for the longing ache within your heart, the hunger never at rest, the demon crawling in the back of your mind—in wait to consume you whole?”_

Silence met his words, an unnatural stillness locking all in place. He focused solely on his intended replacement, his eyes burning.

The crystalline sound of something shattering irreparably——

“Do you…” he started, head tilted to the side so that the shadows sharpen the edge within his eyes, “like the game?”

He could hear shifting, as if the room was awakening, the spell his words had cast dissipating.

“If you like glory as it truly is, then treat all this as such.”

* * *

Opening them again, he withdrew One Autumn Leaf's card, handing it over without even a tremble to his hands.

“It is not just a game.”

It should have hurt more, but...some part of him felt like this had happened before, this separation from what he loved. He had regained it back then, so what was stopping him now?

Nothing, nothing could stop him except himself.

Ye Qiu had never been a coward, and he wouldn't start being one now.

His inner self agreed, whispering, _Black, forever attacking—I never lost when my stone was black._

Always first.

Ahead yet not—how hard was it to look forward without looking back? With each move under purview, endless gazes following, like the world was watching and judging…

A single move could be a downfall.

A single move could be a salvation.

Never losing—in what aspects? In life? In death? Where did the lack of a losing streak matter?

Was it worth it to forever win, to alienate all those around? To be a lonely flower atop a high mountain, out of reach, out of sight? With no one to care if one life was snipped before its time…

_Attack, because that is all you know; take and take, it won’t be yours in the end either way._

* * *

It was raining tonight.

Dark clouds rolling in, the temperature dropping further and further, but not enough to crystallize.

Just enough, though.

Just enough for him to remember the chill that never really left him.

Shouts, curses, ringing in his ear, echoing in his mind.

His head, bowed, but back unbroken.

His hair swept behind him, still straight and tidy like ever.

His robes, collected, unwrinkled.

His face, blank, from rage or agony, he did not know.

This...he should not have let the cheating get to him, should have kept playing with a calm and collected mind, but…

His grip on his fan tightened minutely, the bamboo ribs shifting, the white cloth rustling to his ears if no one else's.

His eyes darkened, gaze still downcast, glare averted from the smug noble standing to the side, chin jerked up, back unnaturally straight.

It was only when he heard the Emperor's declaration that his entire being froze, the light in his eyes dying in the blink of a butterfly's wings, his fan dropping from his grasp and clattering against the floor.

No...no…

Anything but…

Please...all he wanted to do was play…

All he wanted to do was seek...

_Please...gods above...please…_

* * *

_The strongest memories of your life are more often than not your last._

* * *

The card was snatched from his hand roughly. He could feel it slide out of his grasp, like many other things slid.

Insignificant things, important things, in the end—he lost everything.

Having once everything and then nothing—by choice, by fate, by weakness, by victory—was hollow, hollow in the ways that didn’t matter.

Never hollow when words pierced through, when glares and malice crashed over, when the world sought to break an iron will.

A will was only as strong as the resolve that flickered within, the candle’s flame going strong until that one gust extinguished it. For all it took was one moment, one instance, of indecision, of hesitation, of regret, to end everything.

And end everything it did.

It took from him all he knew.

Never again would he know what it felt like to sit beneath the branches and see a sky full of stars.

Never again would he wade in the waters with laughter on his lips, fishes swimming in between his legs and dragonflies flying ahead.

Never again would he grace the court with full bearing, the overhanging cloud of shame and humiliation and bitterness forever trailing him.

Never again...never again would that life be his.

* * *

Dazed, like sinking further into the endless void of space, of darkness, of emptiness—in a free fall, out of control, with the wind buffeting upward. Trying and trying to surface and failing each time, like shattered glass becoming new once again—a miracle that would not come to be.

A voice slashed the void apart, words reaching him.

_“What did you say? What does this have to do with you?”_

What did it have to do with him...it was not his life, never his life, yet he took and took, stole and stole, feeling regret yet not because _he deserved this second–third–every chance,_ **_right?_ **

Why else would he be here, still, bound by _aji_ in this eternal false-life state?

Why?

What did he do to deserve this?

Wasn’t...wasn’t his task done? The path shown? Wasn’t his chance mocked and ridiculed, derided, stolen and bequeathed to another?

No...it was his choice, his choice to teach, to impart, to attempt and fail yet show another the way…

His choice…

Or was it simply the only choice left for him to choose?

Pain ringing in his head, like stones incessantly clattering and shattering like seashells against the ground; vision doubling, like layers upon layers of divide trying to separate him again from touching reality.

Straining to remain awake, remain coherent, to voice something, to not die like this.

To not die within his own mind, to his own soul tearing itself in two.

**_“Take care of it.”_ **

He let go, or was it snatched away? It left his grip, another sacrifice—no, another part of his heart stolen.

* * *

Did he turn to leave? Or was he simply standing there, watching with a blank, fathomless gaze?

How much time had passed? It felt like a second was an eternity, like the world was slowing itself down—or was it just him slowing down? Was this what death felt like? The so-called ‘flashback’ period before greeting death?

Was this supposed to be where he felt regret for an unsuccessful life?

Was it?

_No._

_He_ **_refused_ ** _to let it end like this._

_His end had yet to arrive._

**_He had a promise to keep._ **

_This was not his end._

**_He would not end like this._ **

_Otherwise, he would not be——————_

* * *

**_It’s just a new start._ **

* * *

He blinked—once, twice—his vision clearing bit by bit. The brightly lit room blinded him for a second, his world pure white like it had been...had been…

He blinked rapidly this time, the white dispersing like startled butterflies. His name was called, drawing his attention back.

He turned to face the speaker, to face Cui Li—when had he turned away? “You have more that you wish to say this evening?”

The man eyed him, presumably attempting to decipher what had changed within him, but he let nothing slip through his mask. He allowed a light smile to appear on his face, a slight curve of the lips—taunting, amused, deceptive, elusive, like a smile but not.

Cui Li appeared taken aback, for Ye Qiu never smiled like this. Smirked, yes, but not _smile_ so innocently in a manner that screamed _deception_ because of the innocence not befitting the person. Cui Li, if asked, would say that he could not describe the smile as anything _but_ deceptively tame. His instincts went haywire, yet he couldn’t pinpoint _why_ he felt threatened. There was no reason to feel threatened by Ye Qiu’s uncharacteristic smile, right?

“Ye Qiu,” Cui Li repeated himself, trying to reestablish his calm, “the club was unable to set aside time to raise an account card for your use. Team Excellent Era is not a club to waste resources, however, so we have decided to invest your experience and knowledge back into the team as a training partner.”

Nevertheless——Cui Li never had control of the situation.

Reasserting his presence, Sun Xiang—aggravated by the confrontation moments before—barked out a laugh. “Brother Ye, your skill will lead to your crowning as the best training partner in the Alliance! You really love Glory, right? This would be perfect for you, guiding the next generation to surpass the old.”

“I’m afraid we beg to differ,” Ye Qiu murmured, voice as gentle as receding ocean waters. “There will be no need for me to assume such a position, Cui Li. Take this as my declaration of intent—the contract between us ends here.”

“Oh?” Cui Li mused aloud, eyes lighting up in realization. “You’re actively seeking to break your contract with Excellent Era?” The slight wonder within Cui Li’s voice held a touch of manic glee, causing Ye Qiu’s eyes to narrow.

“Correct. I intend to break the contract.” His decision, in the end, would not change. His vision wavered for a second, the room twisting into the illusion of that hall from before.

He was not kneeling, though.

He was not bowed, head held high.

“Don’t be rash!” Su Mucheng stepped forward, turning her back to the crowd to face him directly. “Ye Qiu, think this over a bit more! Boss Tao has yet to arrive, so wait for him at the very least before making a decision!”

Ye Qiu blinked, as if seeing her for the first time. This...did not happen before.

 _Wait—_ **_what_ ** _before?_

“Mucheng,” he began, voice softening subconsciously. A laugh bubbled up within him, the taste of bitterness clogging up his senses, but he suppressed any visible reaction to the acridity. “Do you not understand? This is not the Excellent Era I have watched grow, now reaching for stars I do not favor. There is no place here for me, not any longer. I am but a money sink, a valueless piece on the board.”

“You’re not! How...how come you came to this conclusion? You’re _the_ Ye Qiu! You set records and achievements that no one has been able to break even now! How are you a money sink? The only reason Excellent Era, the only reason _I_ am getting those sponsorships, is because of you! Your strength doesn’t lose to anyone,” Su Mucheng argued vehemently.

“If that was all that mattered, Su Mucheng, then any team with a strong player would be victorious,” Cui Li interjected, shifting the room’s attention back to his person. His mouth curled into a ridiculing smile. “Anyone can play Glory, but not everyone can play Glory professionally. Sacrifices must be made, but _Ye Qiu_ ,” he sneered, “cannot make what must be made.”

“Your words are not wrong,” Ye Qiu acquiesced. “This is not just an issue of strength or capability. This is business—and I have never allowed myself to have any business value.”

Su Mucheng’s cheeks were a rosy pink, flushed from anger and desperation. “That should not matter! What’s the point of having business value if it’s _worthless_ in regards to winning the championship? No sponsor would look at a failing team! The reason the media has not given up on Excellent Era is because _we have_ **_you_** _!_ ”

“Are you sure about that,” Tao Xuan cut in, stepping into the room. His shoes clacked loudly against the floor as he made his way to stand beside Cui Li. “You may not be aware, Su Mucheng, but our sponsors have long shifted their focus away from Ye Qiu and to _you_. You are the core of Excellent Era’s prestige—not Ye Qiu. By choice or not, his lack of value makes him a dead link, the weakest link.”

“Excellent Era always seeks growth. To make room for that growth,” Cui Li’s eyes sharpened, “the stagnancy must be cleared away.”

“After all, this is just a law of life, the survival of the fittest,” Ye Qiu stated, eyes as chilly as his voice. “My choice is my own; it will not change. Tao Xuan, I presume you have our contract with you? After all these years, you should know me well.”

“I do.” Tao Xuan nodded, not missing a beat.

Su Mucheng’s eyes brimmed with tears. She had walked beside Ye Qiu since the start and knew intimately the politics of the Alliance. The Alliance today was not the Alliance of the past. Those seeking Glory for Glory’s sake were but a handful, the veterans clinging to a weathered dream. The glamour of the stars had shrouded the summit from view.

When had the stars become the brightest lights in the sky? When had the world dimmed due to disharmonious brightness rather than being illuminated?

“Since,” Su Mucheng choked back tears, her voice coming out steady, “since it’s like this, I…”

Ye Qiu shook his head, eyes welling up with sadness. “No need, Mucheng.” He smiled, gentle yet accepting. “Do not worry, for I have not lost hope at all. I will be back, for my destination has always been Glory.”

“You are still the same, as ambitious as ever, Ye Qiu.” Tao Xuan clapped his hands, gesturing for Ye Qiu to take a seat as he took one beside Sun Xiang. Cui Li moved to stand behind him. “You have been with us for so long that we would not have reached this point without your contributions. Talking about a penalty for breaking the contract is in bad form, in my opinion. We won’t push it and are willing to discuss alternatives. Take a seat, Ye Qiu.”

“Is there truly a need?” Ye Qiu allowed his words to hang in the air, stilling the room. “There is but one alternative you will accept.”

Tao Xuan smiled knowingly and pulled out a freshly printed document, the ink black print stark against the pristine white paper. “You have a mind for business, you know. If only you would actually use it for Excellent Era’s future.”

At the very top, one word stood out prominently: 「 Retirement 」.

“No!” Su Mucheng couldn’t refrain herself from exclaiming aloud. “You call this not pushing it? Ye Qiu’s condition is far from those necessitating retirement! You—”

“Mucheng, this is nothing unexpected. I accept.” Ye Qiu reached out for the pen Cui Li was offering, his movements still fluid and discordant with the tension drumming throughout the room. He stepped forward and picked up the contract, his eyes skimming through the terms for anything suspicious.

Su Mucheng gritted her teeth, the bones in her hands cracking slightly from how tightly she was clenching them. Ye Qiu could hear the tiny pops as bones shifted along the joints, but his eyes never strayed from the document in his hand.

“Are you crazy?” Her voice came out as a near whisper, trembling slightly. “A year of retirement is irreparable.”

“What is so bad about a break? Toiling continually will break even the strongest of bones, but a simple rest would do wonders in strengthening it.” Ye Qiu finished reading through the contract and flicked off the cap of the pen.

Before he could set the pen down against the dotted line, Su Mucheng asked, confusion and worry twisting their way into her words, “What...what are you thinking?”

“Nothing much,” Ye Qiu noncommittally replied. He signed his name in a flourish, causing bated breaths to finally be released.

It happened…

Ye Qiu...had retired.

His eyes swept the room one last time, glimmering a dark gold under the fluorescent lighting. This had been his home for nearing on eight years, yet he had nothing left to say. He turned to leave, quiet and contemplative.

“Ye Qiu, we thank you for all you have done for Excellent Era,” Tao Xuan called out. The shuffling of papers could be heard throughout the otherwise silent room.

He did not turn his head back, his stride unbroken as he left the room. Behind him, Su Mucheng followed. The remaining occupants of the room could hear her softly say, “I’ll send you off.”

“Who does he think he is?” Liu Hao glared in the direction of his former captain.

He Ming shrugged and said, “For him, retirement is a blessing. What else can he do? _Train?_ It’s under his instruction that we have been falling through the ranks.”

Zhang Jiaxing looked a bit regretful, but he concurred. “Right. He wouldn’t consider blaming the club for his retirement either.” _But someone else will._ His gaze was drawn back to the opened doors, but not a hint of pink could be seen within the darkened halls.

The room was still far quieter than it would have been if Ye Qiu had just acted as indifferent as he usually did. The murmurs filling the air were contemplative, those mocking taunts quelled by the solemn atmosphere.

Sun Xiang was puzzled, gaze falling onto his new teammates one by one. Finally, he turned to ask Cui Li, “I don’t understand; why did he accept retirement so readily?”

Cui Li smirked, a hint of pride leaking into his voice. “He had no choice but to accept, and he knew that.”

Confusion flitted through Sun Xiang’s eyes as he pressed on. “Why?”

“Because he can’t pay the consequences otherwise,” Cui Li stated simply, pulling out his phone to check the time. Nodding at what he saw, he continued upon seeing Sun Xiang’s befuddled expression, “You are of a newer generation, so this may not be known to you. The Alliance was far from the stage it is today, with talent being rare rather than expected. Professional players were not of the caliber you see now, so when they were inevitably released from their contracts, they ended up in poor situations. As you can imagine, that generation of youths had not expected to crash and burn, and so had not planned for a future after eSports. Ye Qiu was one of the exceptions, not the norm. His genius brought Excellent Era to where we are today, but many left the Alliance without even becoming a footnote in its history. His friends numbered a fair amount within that demographic.”

Sun Xiang took a moment to digest Cui Li’s words. “So, you are saying that Ye Qiu spent most of his earnings helping out those friends of his?”

Cui Li nodded. “In addition to that, the Alliance does not take kindly to his lack of cooperation. We pay him a rather generous salary, as befitting his contributions, but as you saw earlier, he is obstinate about keeping himself out of the public eye. Our hands are tied.”

“Is there a reason why he doesn’t do any business-related activities?” Sun Xiang wondered. “It makes no sense to hinder the team’s development like this.”

“Who knows.” Cui Li glanced at Tao Xuan, who had been listening in while looking through the contract one final time. The CEO of Team Excellent Era had remained silent the entire while.

Sun Xiang, not willing to leave it on this note, inquired further, “Do you not have any guesses?”

“His family, perhaps. A past he is unwilling to allow the media to dig up, if he were to show his face. Even after knowing him for so many years, Ye Qiu is an enigma.” Cui Li smiled in resignation. “I have known him for years, yet have never been privy to his past. No one has, right, Boss Xuan?”

“Ye Qiu’s past is his own, but he does not seem to understand that with a past so influential in the present, people have the right to know why he does the things he does,” Tao Xuan stated grimly. He slid the document into his briefcase and stood up. “I will see you all in the morning.” He nodded at the collected members of the team and took his leave.

Sun Xiang watched his new boss go, his fingers absentmindedly rubbing against the edge of One Autumn Leaf’s account card. “Ye Qiu...leaves quite an impact.” He raised the account card high, letting the light dance across its surface. The wear and tear was evident, but so was the love and care that was poured into the tiny card of plastic. “What else about him do we not know?”

Cui Li clicked his tongue and changed the conversation. “Boss Xuan had to leave for other appointments, but he had gifted me a bottle of aged red wine from his collection to commemorate your entrance. Come, it is in the room adjacent to this one.”

“Hah, thanks! With me, Excellent Era will shine once again!” Sun Xiang chuckled, tossing the previous conversation to the back of his mind. He clapped a hand onto Cui Li’s shoulder and gestured for the team to follow him to the next room.

Why mourn for a fallen legend when there was a celebration to be had?


	3. 03 | Joban 序盤 | Xù Pán 序盤

_Opening..._

_Black or white...regardless, the board opens up as it always does—a brand new start, a game between two——no, between three. Black, white, and fate...how will the stones be played, this time around?_

* * *

A flurry of snowflakes greeted her, melting against her skin as she stepped outside. Blinking, it took her a moment to adjust to the dimly lit evening, with only the lit storefronts illuminating the otherwise white world. She shivered uncontrollably, tugging her parka closer around her body, but a mere chill would not send her running away, not from this.

“Ye Qiu, you really don’t…”

“I do.”

He was staring up at the sky, she realized. A faint shimmer of moonlight accentuated his sharp features, making him seem even more...more _not_ Ye Qiu. She swallowed, her throat parched still. Licking her chapped lips, she finally found her voice. “Now what?”

“I’ll rest a year…” Ye Qiu began, but then he broke off, gaze suddenly withdrawing from the sky. His eyes were dark, a pitch black in this poor lighting. Her own eyes widened when she saw her reflection within his eyes, her reflection and nothing else.

“A year...and then what?” Su Mucheng asked eventually, the silence becoming too thick for her to bear.

Ye Qiu did not look at her, not really. He was seeing through her, as if she was but another face in the crowd.

Her lips downturned slightly. Stepping just a bit closer, she looked up at him through her bangs. His gaze had not shifted away from her previous position.

“Ye Qiu?” she prodded gently, her hand reaching out to grasp his, only for him to flinch. Su Mucheng backed off as well, stumbling back a pace. “Ye...Ye Qiu?” Her voice came out shaky, trembling with worry and fear. “Is...are you…”

“Mucheng,” the way her name came out of his mouth scared her. It echoed in the wintry air, on this lonesome street. Her ears ached, becoming numb. She had rushed out after him without taking into account the weather, and the chill was getting to her.

This wasn’t what was at the forefront of her mind, though.

Snowflakes had already begun to settle within their hair, speckles of white amongst dark curtains. In this world of white, it had become just the two of them. Murmurs swirled around her, flitting by her ear. Whispers about what they were doing, standing in the middle of the street while dressed so flimsily.

Her mind discarded those words as quickly as it registered them.

“Ye…” Her voice died out, fading to less than a whisper—as if her breath had been stolen away.

And perhaps, it had been, for Ye Qiu was smiling again, but...it was neither Ye Qiu’s smile nor _Ye Qiu’s_ smile. It tugged at her heart, calling for her. Her eyes watered slightly, her vision becoming hazy. For a moment, she could see a ghost appear behind him, sparkling eyes hidden by shadows, a figure larger than life yet familiar.

“It’s Ye Xiu, now,” he said, voice slicing through the bustle and noise.

She blinked. The ghost vanished, and all that was left was Ye Qiu—no, Ye Xiu.

“...Xiu?” she tested, hesitation seeping into her voice. She stared at the person before her, wondering why, despite finally learning his real name, she felt as if a chasm was now separating them. The wind blew past them both, tugging at her loose hair and obscuring her vision for a moment.

A hand reached out and tucked the offending strands behind her ear. She looked up at him, at the person she saw as family, and couldn’t help but…

She ducked her head down into his chest, hands clenching his sweater tightly. His arms wrapped around her, comforting yet unapologetic.

_I’ll rest a year..._

_But I don’t know if I’ll come back._

Su Mucheng knew, from that moment of hesitation, that something had changed. The words from before haunted her; she should have known something was up, that Ye—that something was bothering him.

Not come back? Ye Qiu was made for Glory, so why wouldn’t he come back? A year of retirement might be irreparable, but he would still find a way, right?

...right?

But——

Su Mucheng took a step back, palms flat against his chest. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her bowed head to look him straight in the eye.

Dark eyes, a glimmer of gold, met her gaze. An undercurrent threatened to pull her in, to sweep her out to sea. Despite the cold, his skin was a porcelain white, not the sallow pallor it normally was. There was not a hint of a flush, as if his blood had turned cold.

“Come back to me,” she whispered. _Don’t leave me, too._

He smiled, softly, and this was a smile she recognized. It was the smile he gave her, when he had promised to take care of her all those years ago. It was the smile he gave her, when he had told her that the lost championship was not any of their faults. It was that barely there smile he had given her, back when she came to get him less than an hour ago. It was the smile _she hated the most._

It was the smile he gave her whenever he felt as if his world had fallen apart.

“I will,” he promised. She didn’t know if it was a lie, but she accepted it regardless. Her arms came up to wrap around him, pulling him tight into her embrace. His scent grounded her, a hint of wisteria within the cloud of smoke. He allowed it, his arms coming to rest at her waist.

For a moment, it was like the rest of the world fell away.

But all moments came to an end.

She had to let him go, but her hands clung even tighter to his coat, her head burying deeper into his shoulder. If only she could have done more; if only she could have taken on more sponsorships.

“Why can’t I go with you?”

His arms tensed around her waist, like unyielding iron. His breath was soft against her ear, just barely brushing against her skin, yet it warmed her better than any cup of tea could.

“You still have a place up there on stage.”

“So do you. You’ll always have a place, so why...why are you giving it up?”

Silence. He didn’t answer her, or maybe he couldn’t answer her.

“Do you even know why you’re giving it up?”

“No, I don’t.”

He removed himself from her embrace, taking the step back that she couldn’t. She blinked away tears she had not realized had formed. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

She didn’t know what to say.

“Find your way back to me,” she asked—no, she _demanded._ “You aren’t leaving me too.”

He nodded, his face blank of emotion once more. “A year, that’s all I ask.”

“And that’s all I’m giving you.”

He turned to leave, and all she could do was watch.

Watch, and hope.

When his figure disappeared within the crowd of pedestrians, she waited a beat longer, her eyes straining to find him. Coming up empty-handed, she finally turned away from the world and back to what she now realized was her prison. With each step, resolve filled her being. Gaze sharp, she walked back onto the battlefield.

* * *

“You’re still awake at this hour?”

Cradling the phone against his shoulder, he stirred the stew a bit more before withdrawing the wooden spoon and setting it to the side. He allowed his old friend’s words to wash over him as he began searching for that specific spice he needed but could never manage to remember where he last placed it. Around him, an array of ingredients decorated the kitchen counters in an unorganized manner.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Eh.” He finally managed to find it behind the canister of sugar. Sprinkling a dash into the stew, he set it to simmer for the night. He readjusted the phone to his hand and walked toward the sink, his gaze drawn to the clear sky visible outside through the window. “Kind of.”

“Kind of? You—at least go to sleep a bit earlier; you have a match tomorrow, and you aren’t as young as you used to be.”

“Alright, _mother_.”

“Who would want to give birth to you? I would have demanded a blood test.”

“Tch, back at you.”

A laugh resounded in his ear, and he couldn’t help the smile crossing his face. “Night, Akira.”

“Good night, Hikaru.”

Hikaru stared down at his phone, his finger still pressing down on the screen. Would it be a good night? He glanced back outside at the star-filled sky and hoped it would be.

“I have another match tomorrow, Sai. Please, continue watching over me.”

* * *

“Su Mucheng, back already?”

She smiled prettily and nodded. “Yes, I am. Am I interrupting?” Su Mucheng glanced around at the half-filled break room, her eyes zeroing in on the nearly empty bottle of red wine. No wonder a good portion of the team looked drunk; they weren’t known for being heavy-weights.

“Come, come, share a glass with me,” her new team captain beckoned. “We’ll be working together a great deal, ey?”

Her lips twitched, but she stepped into the break room and poured herself a new glass, making sure to fill it to just half-full. “This is more than enough for me, Captain Sun,” she delicately said before taking a small sip.

She wasn’t the type to drink away her sorrows.

The alcohol slid down smoothly, the bitter taste causing her face to twist in discomfort.

“Heh, not to your taste?” Sun Xiang teased, tossing back the rest of his glass. “Perhaps something a bit more fruity is up your alley.”

In less than a second, the wine in Su Mucheng’s glass vanished. Setting it back down, she flashed Sun Xiang a warm smile. “Thank you for your concern, captain, but I am just someone who does not indulge in alcohol often.”

Sun Xiang laughed, hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “Right, of course. Very professional of you, Su Mucheng.”

“Thank you. I take it your celebration is going well?” She then adopted a contemplative look before reaching out for the bottle of wine. “Here, you should have the last of it.” Su Mucheng tipped the bottle just so, the wine sloshing against the bottom of Sun Xiang’s glass moments later.

Raising his glass in salute, he readily drank it all, wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand. “Is...Brother—” he paused at the way her eyes sharpened and then quickly corrected himself, “is God Ye all right?”

She leaned back, eying him carefully. A bead of sweat trickled down her new captain’s forehead, slipping beneath the collar of his furred jacket. The rest of the room was watching as well, all their gazes focused on her.

“Why wouldn’t he be?” Her voice held an air of innocence and naivety, sweet-sounding like bells tinkling in the spring breeze. “Ye Qiu always knows what his next move is,” she pointed out matter-of-factly.

Liu Hao nodded and walked up to join the duo. “Yes, he does,” he mused, his empty glass dangling carelessly between two fingers. “Are you all right, though, Su Mucheng. Your eyes look a bit red.”

Bringing up a hand to touch her cheek, she smiled up at Liu Hao. “Oh, are they? It was rather cold outside, and I had forgotten my scarf and beanie in my haste to say goodbye. Don’t worry about me, vice-captain.”

“Be more careful,” Liu Hao replied before turning to Sun Xiang. “Captain, let me show you to your room.”

“Ah, wait,” Su Mucheng interrupted. “Is...is Captain Sun going to be using Ye Qiu’s old room?”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

Biting her bottom lip, Su Mucheng took a moment to compose her words, though it proved unnecessary.

“It is fine, Brother Liu,” Sun Xiang said. “God Ye just left, so the room should be cleaned first before I move in, right?”

“Right! I’ll go do that right now, since I’m not much of a drinker. You two go back to celebrating. Congratulations, Captain Sun.” Su Mucheng spun on her heel and left the break room quickly, heading straight for Ye Xiu’s old room.

Liu Hao and Sun Xiang stared after her, her sudden leave surprising them. Smiling in amusement, Liu Hao explained to Sun Xiang, “She’s rather close to Ye Qiu, if you have not realized. I don’t think he left with his belongings either, so she must have gone to pack for him.”

“So she, with him…?” Sun Xiang trailed off, gaze still focused on the open doorway.

Liu Hao shrugged. “Who knows. If they are together, they kept it under wraps very well. Su Mucheng’s greatest selling point is her image, after all. Her obtaining a lover would send her value plummeting.”

“Right,” Sun Xiang commented. The wine tasted like ash in his mouth all of a sudden. “Brother Liu, was all this really necessary? Switching captaincy mid-season,” he broke off, itching for another glass of wine.

Smiling still, Liu Hao set his glass down beside Su Mucheng’s abandoned one. “Excellent Era needs a new captain at its helm, and that’s you.”

“Right,” Sun Xiang echoed. “Me.”

* * *

She walked slowly to his room, her feet light beneath her—as if she was walking on a bridge of fragile ice. One wrong move, and it would come crashing down beneath her. Her shoulders slumped forward slightly, her body shivering despite the warm heat radiating from the vents. She could hear herself breathing clearly, uneven and harsh at times despite her best attempts to soothe her shaken soul.

Fluorescent lighting illuminated all around her, yet the door before her now acted like a void of pure darkness. The slit beneath the door revealed the lack of light within, and it was only proper. Before...before that meeting, Ye Qiu—no, _Ye Xiu_ —had turned everything off.

If she were to just open the door, she would find a discarded cigarette within the commemorative Excellent Era logo ashtray. If she were to just open the door, she would find the trophies lining the top bookshelves, the guides neatly stacked on the levels just beneath. If she were to just open the door, she would find herself in Ye Xiu’s sanctuary.

Yet, without him there, with that sanctuary abandoned, she lacked the strength, the resolve, to push the door open.

Her bangs swished in her face as she shook herself out of her daze. She _had to_ open that door. Otherwise, that...her new captain would gain access to the sanctuary, and that was simply _not allowed_.

Pressing one hand flat against the door, she used the other to turn the handle. Her movements were slow, her ears ringing with the quiet clicks of locks shifting and settling. The monitor was still lit dully, showing the log-in screen for Glory. Su Mucheng walked forward, her hands hovering over the keys. All it would take were a few simple clicks to shut down the computer completely, but all she could remember was the look on his face when she had walked in, that look of resignation, of loss, of heartbreak.

Su Mucheng was not even sure Ye Xiu himself realized what she had seen in his eyes, what had caused her to offer up so much resistance. She was not even sure she knew what she had seen. That blankness was of a calm fury, the lull in the tide before one was unexpectedly swept out to sea, the eye of the storm before the winds tore apart all that crossed their way.

She was not sure who she had been more worried for: Ye Xiu, or Team Excellent Era.

 _In the end_ , she thought as she began stowing away Ye Xiu’s belongings into boxes and his sole duffel bag, _something broke—within him, within this team...within me._

When she finished packing up everything, she shouldered the barely-filled duffel bag higher up and carried the two medium-sized boxes out of the room. The door closed behind her, trapping most of the Excellent Era paraphernalia within. The hallway was quiet, except for her the sound of her footprints against the tiled floor. Passing by the main dormitory area, toward the entrance, drew stares onto her form, but she paid them no mind.

It was only when she got to the entrance that she realized——she had no clue where Ye Xiu went afterward. Biting her bottom lip, she stared outside through the glass door, watching the snow gently blanket the world in a cold embrace of white.

“Su Mucheng?”

She turned, hair fluttering around her and messily wrapping around her occupied arms. If she had the foresight, she would have tied her hair up beforehand. Flicking her head so that at least her bangs would be out of her way, she shifted her attention to the person who called out to her.

“Ah, Shen Jian, the snowfall is rather heavy tonight, no?” Her voice was light and casual, as if she had not been on opposing sides less than an hour ago.

He glanced outside, hair untidily swept back into a low ponytail. “It is.” Shen Jian shifted a bit, uncertain if he was stepping too far, but his proper upbringing demanded he speak up. “Do you need a hand? Those are Captain, I mean, Ye Qiu’s things, right? Let me help carry them.” The suspicious look she shot him pierced through fiercer than a bolt through the heart, but he stayed firm. “Let me,” he repeated himself.

A jerk of her chin beckoned him forward. Carefully slipping his hands beneath hers, he grunted when she released her hold on the boxes. To his surprise, it was not that heavy, just bulky in size. “Where to?” he asked, only to be answered with silence. “Su Mucheng?”

“I…”

Su Mucheng looked distressed from what he could see of her profile. Her brows were slightly twisted together, her lips trembling. Although her eyes were clear of tears, to him, it felt as if she had simply lost the ability to cry. “Su Mucheng?” He softened his voice, trying to coax her back to reality. “Is everything all right? Do you...do you need a moment?”

“I’m—I’m fine.” She walked up to the door and pushed it open. A gust of cold wind blasted them in the face, snow melting the instant it touched his skin.

“Lead the way,” he prompted. Su Mucheng looked back over her shoulder, a tentatively thankful smile on her face. He responded with a slight smile of his own, and something tight within him loosened upon seeing her turn away with a quick nod.

“This way.”

Snow crunched beneath his feet as he followed her down the street. Down the street, past block after block...he was not sure she knew exactly where she was walking, but he followed regardless. Not a word was passed between them again, but the silence was comforting.

He had never seen her that incensed before. Annoyed, frustrated, yes—who never felt like that? But to see her nearly spitting with fury at Cui Li _and_ Ye Qiu? Worried was not the most accurate word to describe what Shen Jian was feeling.

They walked across the nearby bridge, the usually present sound of rushing water missing. He glanced over the railing, and all he could see with the lamplight were shriveled leaves trapped in a layer of fragile ice. He supposed that he would have been able to see rippling currents beneath in better lighting, but the darkness was rather prevalent tonight.

He took a step off the bridge and then came to a complete halt. Craning his neck back, he stared silently at the lonesome brunette staring into the distance as she stood near the edge, her hands tightly wrapped around the duffel bag strap.

Shen Jian opened his mouth, but his voice failed him. For a moment, he could see a figure overlap with hers, but when he blinked, that illusory silhouette was gone.

His fingers tapped against the bottom of the box, yet he couldn’t bring himself to break the stillness that befell the world. Snow gently piled up, a half-centimeter layer of white now covering the top box.

Su Mucheng had yet to move.

Pedestrians muttered as they weaved around the two statues, but the spell remained unbroken. His vision began to blur, lashes heavy with snow. Something kept urging him to continue watching her, as if waiting for a specific moment to arrive.

He blinked.

A figure tapped her on the shoulder, breaking the spell. Shen Jian was unable to tell who it was from his angle, so he walked a bit closer, arms trembling now that the cold’s influence was reaching him. His breath came out in white wisps, his body shuddering when a particularly chilly gust of wind swept past.

“C-captain?” The word left his mouth before he could fully register the sight before him.

The pair turned, and he could see crystalline tracks paving a path down pink-tinged, frosted cheeks. Su Mucheng sent him a watery smile, nodding in thanks for the help. He then realized that he was still holding the boxes closely to his chest, but he did not think he could set them down with his fingers frozen stiff like this. Ye Qiu—Captain, no, former Captain Ye Qiu—pulled Su Mucheng closer to his body, his arm curling around her shoulder.

“Shen Jian, thank you for your help with my belongings.” Ye Qiu smiled, a normal one unlike before—a bit bland yet tame nonetheless.

Shen Jian shook his head and replied, “No problem. Where do you want this?” He shifted the boxes a bit, so that the weight leaned more against his body rather than tipping forward.

“No need. I can carry them.” Shen Jian stared incredulously at Ye Qiu, but the boxes were taken off his hands before he could protest further. “You should head back; the team must be missing you.”

Su Mucheng gave a tiny wave and then turned to follow Ye Qiu. Shen Jian wanted to ask— _What about Su Mucheng?—_ but instead asked, “Captain, are you really retiring just like that?”

Although Ye Qiu had walked quite a bit aways by this point, Shen Jian’s question still reached his ears. The man stopped walking and looked back over his shoulder. “There is only a handful of decisions I have made and regret. Retiring is not one of them.”

Shen Jian felt like if he didn’t try and reach out _this very moment_ , he would never get a chance again. What could he say that was not just empty words? “Captain!” he called out, still with nothing in mind.

Ye Qiu paused again, this time fully turning to face him. Su Mucheng was eyeing him carefully, a warning look in her eyes.

“I’m no longer your captain, Shen Jian. This respect, I am not due.”

“You’ll always be Captain to me,” Shen Jian admitted. The surprise in Ye Qiu’s eyes, as well as Su Mucheng’s, was not what he expected. Words spilled out of his mouth without end. “You may not remember, but I didn’t always play a Striker. I played…”

“Battle Mage,” Su Mucheng interjected. “I remember now; you joined Excellent Era a little after I did.”

“You were my idol. I was supposed to be your apprentice. No, I _wanted_ to be your apprentice.” Shen Jian shook his head, a self-pitying smile on his face. “That obviously didn’t work out. You told me, bluntly, after I first dueled you: ‘My style is not your style. Playing as someone else is the worst strategy to implement.’ I fought against you repeatedly on that and even chose to switch classes to Striker in spite. Instead, I discovered it a better fit than my original class.”

Ye Qiu smiled and nodded, but to Shen Jian, it still seemed fixed. _He is only being polite; I’m not getting through to him,_ Shen Jian realized. He forged on, “You taught me so much about Glory, changed the way I looked at the game. I’m sorry I didn’t speak up before. I’m sorry, Su Mucheng, for not supporting your stance. I’m sorry you have to retire—”

“That has nothing to do with you,” Ye Qiu stated, finally speaking up. Looking Shen Jian dead in the eye, he repeated, “That has nothing to do with you. I have never been on good terms with the club management, and it simply spilled over to affect the team.”

“Then I’m making it my business.” Shen Jian resisted the urge to step forward any closer. He briefly closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. “You will not—uh, I mean, I do not—ah, no, that’s…” Shen Jian became flustered, stumbling over his thoughts. The wind muffled further the stifled giggle he could barely hear. Whether his cheeks were flushed red from the chill or from his fumble, only the heavens knew.

Ye Qiu raised a brow. His voice cut through the wind without any difficulty. “It matters not to me if you make it your business. Our paths diverge here.”

“Then I’ll follow you on your path!” Shen Jian exclaimed, chest heaving as if he had just run a marathon. “I’ll—I’ll follow. You didn’t allow Su Mucheng to quit, but Excellent Era doesn’t care about a reserve player like me. I’m…” He trailed off, head bowed. The pressing truth he had always ignored was caught in his throat. _I’m replaceable._

A touch on his shoulder startled him. He whipped his head to see who it belonged to, and although he felt his stomach sink slightly when he realized who the hand belonged to, his heart still felt warm.

“Hey,” her voice was soft, the smile on her face warming him better than a cup of hot cocoa, “you really admire Ye Qiu, don’t you.”

He choked, eyes tearing up against his will. Nodding rapidly, he whispered, “Y-yes, he was the reason I began playing.”

“Then you should be able to respect his choices, right?”

Shen Jian nodded, swiping his hand over his eyes quickly to clear his vision. “But, that, he shouldn’t have been forced to retire!”

Su Mucheng smiled sadly in understanding, yet countered, “But it is his choice. We should respect that.” At this, she looked away, to where Ye Qiu was still standing. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his coat, his gaze elsewhere. At some point, he had set down the cardboard boxes, uncaring about the snow wetting the contents within. But, as if feeling Su Mucheng and Shen Jian’s eyes, he turned to face them again. Ye Qiu tilted his head slightly, but said nothing—expression still calm and collected.

“Can’t, can’t I follow and support him? He doesn’t plan to stop playing, right? You heard him back there; this is just a break! How come _you_ get to follow him and I can’t?” He slammed his hands over his mouth the moment that last sentence resonated in the air. Staring wide-eyed at Su Mucheng, he waited for her to get angry, yet all he got was a gentle smile.

“I follow because nothing he can do will stop me from following him.” If he wasn’t in such close proximity to her, her words would have been lost in the wind, the snow falling faster and thicker now. “So make yourself someone who he can’t leave behind, if you truly want to prove yourself worthy of staying by his side.”

“Mucheng,” Ye Qiu called out. “Let’s go; it’s getting colder now.”

Su Mucheng flashed him a smile but didn’t immediately make her way over. She turned back to say one last thing to Shen Jian. “Tell the team I’ll be back by morning, won’t you? Take care, Shen Jian.”

Shen Jian watched her nearly skip over to Ye Qiu’s side, tucking herself against him. Something within him ached, but her words would not leave him. _Nothing he can do will stop me from following him._ Was it that simple?

Was it?

“Get back safely, Little Shen.”

He blinked once, then twice. Were his ears deceiving him? No, that really was Ye Qiu waving farewell, boxes casually held with only one arm. He raised his arm as well, but the older man had already turned away, causing him to lower his arm awkwardly.

Standing alone on the bridge, he found his gaze drawn up to the sky. Even though he could barely see it peeking out from behind the snow-heavy clouds, the moon’s brilliance was comforting in a way.

 _It was that simple, wasn’t it,_ Shen Jiang thought. _I’ll do it. I won’t let you leave me behind._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hah...Shen Jian really took over the chapter at the end. TFW a minor character writes himself too far into the plot, so you have to rearrange everything qwq  
> Please leave your comments down below! I would love to hear your thoughts ~~and conspiracy theories~~.  
> Thank you tsu for giving me feedback when I was writing this!


	4. 04 | Fuseki 布石 | Bù Jú 布局

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you **tsu** for looking this over! ♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ)
> 
> Hah...so things did come up. My month became unexpectedly busy, so I'm going to try to update once a week. It's most likely going to be once every week and a half or two weeks. ( ´•̥×•̥` )
> 
> The chapters are getting longer though! ~~rip me~~
> 
> As always, I would love to hear your thoughts down below in the comments!

_Envision the world as the board, the board as the universe—a single stone ripples endlessly even beyond the void. Yet this was never a game for one, each hand striving for the unseen glory._

* * *

His senses were shrouded by heavy veils of cotton, muffling the world. A heavy weight on his arm pinned him down, and the darkness encompassing his surroundings informed him of the hour. Still, his eyes fluttered open slowly, his lips twisting into a wry smirk when he caught a glimpse of the time.

A little more than four hours of sleep was far more than he had expected. Glancing down at his companion, his lips curled into something softer, gentler. Well, there was a reason for such a result occuring. Ye Xiu carefully extracted his arm from Su Mucheng’s embrace, causing the sleeping brunette to grab his pillow in retaliation. Watching her curl around the makeshift doll, Ye Xiu breathed out steadily, his fingers absentmindedly reaching out to brush aside a loose strand of hair back behind her ear.

The room was bathed in darkness, though the glimmer of light slipping in from the window lit enough of the way for him to walk over to the bathroom unobstructed. He closed the door behind him softly and flicked the lights on, wincing at the brightness. When his eyes adjusted, he finally caught a glimpse of himself, a frown making its way onto his face.

High brows, arched slightly; aristocratic descent of some kind.

Pale skin, closer to unhealthy than not.

Dark hair, black to be precise, cut short, though bangs were parted to the right.

Eyes a piercing gold—sharp and unnatural.

Ye Xiu observed his reflection in the mirror, bringing a hand up to his chin in thought. His finger brushed against smooth skin, not a hint of stubble. He had not been eating enough, but that was nothing new. His appetite had all but disappeared for the past few years. His hand drifted upward to finger a few strands of hair, his lips pursing as he took further note of himself.

He splashed his face with water and cleaned up the best he could before leaving the bathroom. Grabbing his coat, he slipped it back on and checked his pockets for all the essentials. Nodding in satisfaction, he gave one final glance to his sleeping companion and left, making his way out of the inn.

At this late hour, there were not many out on the streets. A solid layer of snow decorated the earth, mostly untouched except for the few inroads made by travelers. Ye Xiu eyed the calf-high level of snow before sweeping his gaze down the street, settling on one well-lit storefront back across the bridge. A slight shift in angle moved his old home into view, causing his eyes to gain a considering light.

He slipped his hands deeper into his pockets, fingering a battered but well-cared for plastic card. He glanced the other direction, where he could vaguely remember there being another internet cafe. Closer, as well, but less of a connection, less of a chance—in the end, his feet began moving before his mind made a decision. Trudging through the snow, it took him no more than twenty minutes to make his way to the entrance, a chill already seeping into his bones. Carelessly shaking his hair free of stray snowflakes, he felt his shoulders loosen upon stepping inside.

The tinkling of the bell snapped him out of his daze.

Blinking at the bright lights, he took a moment to take in the expansive cafe, the rows upon rows of computers, the buzzing conversations. Smiling apologetically at the young woman sitting at the front desk, he bowed and left the cafe.

Right before his eyes was his residence just a few hours ago, the brilliant red lettering particularly eye-catching.

**《 Excellent Era 》**

A swirl of snow swept across his vision. Shielding his eyes, he braced himself against the harsh wind, yet his gloved hands could not completely provide defense against the flurry of snowflakes now clouding his world. A few blinks could not rid the haze covering his eyes either.

The brilliant red lettering continued to glow fiercely, highlighting the eaves reminisce of a pagoda. With how poor vision was at this hour, his eyes must be playing tricks on him. For a second, he thought the rooftop was lined with cerulean hued tiles, the red glow spreading to cover the entirety of the block, until it seemed like rather than being made of concrete, wood had been used.

For a second, he thought he had been staring at the palace once again.

Someone jostled him to the side, entering the internet cafe he had just stepped into only to leave immediately. Concentration now broken, Ye Xiu’s gaze fell onto said internet cafe.

**《 Happy Internet Cafe 》**

Why did his feet take him to this nondescript place, to one titled _Happy_ of all things? Though the real estate had a high value, it would most certainly be a devout follower of Excellent Era’s banner as well. It would have done him poorly to carve a niche for himself in his enemy’s backyard.

Shaking his head, Ye Xiu shook the militant thoughts from his head.

No, this was not a war. This was not a battle that he needed to win. He was not looming over a gridded board, envisioning countless possible outcomes.

This was reality.

Clenching his fists, he began walking down the streets, away from the bright lights.

He had allowed fate to control his life once, twice, thrice.

All three times, he had succumbed, been wrenched from his place and tossed into another.

He refused to allow fate to lead him to another pyrrhic victory.

His destiny was his own. This life, he would grasp tightly with both hands. Never again would he gain nothing and lose everything.

_I will forge my own glory._

Unseen to the eyes of mortals, innumerable strings snapped, the woven tapestry now in ruins. The night became pure darkness, not a single star visible in the sky, the moment that declaration of the soul was made. The galaxy rippled, this one change causing stones to slide and fall off the board.

The world changed completely in that one instant, yet the sun rose like usual in the morn.

* * *

 

It was slightly past midnight when he found himself within the next closest internet cafe a few blocks down.

**《 Grand Internet Cafe 》**

Ye Xiu shook off the loose snow that had settled on his form. It had stopped snowing earlier, but he did not believe the management would appreciate him tracking in snow. His fingers were a bit numb, and when they settled around the door handle, strength unexpectedly left them. Gritting his teeth, Ye Xiu pried the door open, striding inside without a hint of further hesitation.

The establishment reverberated with the clicking and clacking of keyboards and mouses, the users too entranced in their screens to pay attention to the slight _ding_ of the door opening. Even the employee stationed at the front desk needed to be reminded of their job.

“A computer for six hours, please,” he requested, voice just audible over the din of the customers.

The employee looked up from his stack of books, annoyance prevalent on his face. “Here, Area F, Seat 5. Use the card to turn on the computer, then follow the directions on the screen to pay for your time.” Done with his duty, the employee returned to his studying, pencil furiously scribbling across a new blank page.

The abrupt conversation left Ye Xiu slightly stunned. Feeling as if he had been brushed aside like a flea, he began wandering the aisles, trying to find his assigned seat. His curiosity meant he couldn’t help but peer at the screens of other users, an amused smile tugging at his lips when he saw that the majority—if not all—were playing Glory.

Something was off, however, causing his brows to furrow as he tried to pinpoint what exactly about their gameplay was so peculiar. It was when he passed by the seat of a high school student that he realized the source of the peculiarity. The traffic congestion within the rural village visible on the young girl’s screen was similar to a scene from a decade ago. When he actually took a moment to observe the decorations on the wall, he easily spotted posters announcing Glory’s Tenth Server Launch.

Ye Xiu sighed. _Ten years, yet some things remain the same._

Settling down into his assigned seat, he slid the plastic card within the reader, which immediately brought up the payment screen. With a few clicks, he prepaid for six hours worth of computer use. The lack of human interaction in this transaction was a bit unnerving, but it also brought relief to Ye Xiu.

Once burned, twice shy.

The basis of all interaction required a seed of trust, yet...Ye Xiu was an old soul, one who had seen too much. Trust was something he had given freely only for it to be torn to shreds.

Years of history, destroyed in an instant.

His hands rested languidly over the keys, lost in his memory.

Of days spent kneeling constantly, with nary a break for sustenance; of days at war, mind stretched to beyond its natural limits; of days where silence ruled beyond the clack of shell against wood—the memories of those days had returned to him, but with it, came all the grievances that never left, only continuing to stew.

Of his endless, fruitless search—yet a search he would never give up on.

He withdrew from his pocket his wallet, pulling out the separate card case secured within. When he had signed on with Excellent Era, he had transferred ownership of One Autumn Leaf as well, but only One Autumn Leaf. All of the various alternate accounts he used, unless they had been specially raised by the team, belonged to him. With a multitude of options available, many of which are still unconnected to his legend in the eyes of the Alliance and player base, Ye Xiu found himself at crossroads.

For a veteran of Glory as old as he, it was not odd for him to keep his old accounts, despite never finding the time to use them as he used to. His fingers trailed over the smooth card edges, the age and use of each card evident by the fading durability. When one of the last cards appeared before him, however, he paused. Old yet never used, the ink a mere ghost of its original penmanship.

_Red grapes, being drained dry of its juice, fermenting for years until its rich red hue glowed with age. Tilting, gently, the wine into a receptacle of white jade, the chalice gleaming with luminosity. Yet the call of the pipa tears away the veil of peace, pulling abled men to war. Yet, war itself was a terror, with drink the only comfort available. Warriors, found on the battlefield, would plead for it, their lives draining away with each passing moment. Not once laughing at their plight—for not many ever return from the frontier, yet they leave anyway, their desire to protect stronger than their desire to live.*_

Like an old memory, misted by time and forgetfulness. The taste of blood and ashes heavy on his tongue, eyes long dry from endless nights of tears. A brother lost, a father aged, a mother mourning...so never had he laughed at the sacrifices made.

Frowning, Ye Xiu pulled out this card, the tale now at the forefront of his mind. Only now did he understand why that poem in particular had stuck with him for so long, such that he recited it to a young girl when she asked for help on the classics. His past...he could not escape, could he.

 _It’s a new start_ ; was it truly, or the inability to let go.

Still, he found himself inserting the card into the reader, allowing the game to load. When he was asked for confirmation, he paused.

If it was truly a new start, then the new server should suffice, no?

**【 Server Transfer Successful: First Server → Tenth Server 】**

Call him a fool, then, for returning to the battlefield no matter how much it had stolen from him.

* * *

 

He had started fairly late compared to most that night, nearly an hour into witching hour. Still, the Beginner Village was packed with players, causing him to spend nearly three hours completing the novice series of quests. Truthfully, he could have finished it in approximately two hours, but he had needed to open one of his old guides to complete the quests. He was not in a rush either, so taking his time to finish each quest, basking in simply playing Glory _for Glory_.

It was starkly different from his gaming hours less than a day ago. Even when dueling in the Arena, he had a goal in mind, yet now? All he wanted was to explore Glory and see all the changes that had been done, see all the bugs and glitches that had spawned and disappeared, see the world that was constantly evolving. He only realized now, as he commanded Lord Grim over to the class skill instructors, that being in the Alliance had caused an insidious mindset to overtake him, to overtake them all.

Playing with no expectations, no ambitions, no urgency...a smile bloomed on Ye Xiu’s face.

Perhaps he had needed this retirement, needed it to find himself again, find his love for Glory again. He had once said to Su Mucheng that he would never tire of playing Glory even several years later, but could his words stay true for a thousand years? Was it possible to hold a torch for more than one passion?

The world of Glory reflected within golden eyes. Skill tree branches spreading far and wide, seeds dispersing to one day grow into a mammoth of a forest. Roads and buildings passed by in a blur, a Bronze Sword dematerializing with a click in exchange for coin. An unassuming warehouse loomed ahead, a storage chest glinting dimly in the poor lighting.

_Click._

Ye Xiu beheld the legacy before him, the silver lettering akin to a blazing bonfire in his eyes. Now, he could see the remnants of his past, see the way the spokes opened similar to the ribs of his silk fan. Each time the weapon transitioned between forms, he could see the slight inspiration peeking through, from when he helped his old friend craft this masterpiece.

Closing his eyes briefly, he clicked the button to equip Lord Grim with the silver weapon, the Myriad Manifestations Umbrella dematerializing from the storage chest and coalescing into the avatar’s hands.

Though solemnity reigned within his gaze, his lips curved upward into a soft smile as he maneuvered Lord Grim in the direction of the Green Forest Dungeon.

He had promised he would return a year later. He had not promised to return to a stage remaining untouched. The Glory he saw within the Alliance was nothing like the Glory he knew, but he did not intend to allow this difference to remain.

He would always seek Glory, _his_ Glory.

And so when several party invites popped up on his screen, he randomly accepted one that only needed one more member to challenge the dungeon.

If he had paid more attention to the global channel, he would have seen the disparaging remarks about the leader of the party he had just joined, with the cries of a player named Fallen Sun being particularly loud, but Ye Xiu had never been one to listen to the gossip and rumors. Instead, he simply sent a polite 「 Hello 」 into the party chat.

「 Sleeping Moon: Great! Let’s start then. 」

「 Lord Grim: How should the drops be split? 」

「 Sleeping Moon: We’ll decide once we complete the dungeon. There’s no point arguing while in combat. 」

At this sound judgment, Ye Xiu nodded. True, it was better to not quarrel over an equipment drop and such when they could be ambushed at any time. He could have asked specifically about the Hidden BOSS drops, but that would have alerted the other party members as to his goal, allowing them to draw more concessions from him in order to obtain those specific drops.

Ye Xiu’s trust in others had deteriorated severely; even he acknowledged this. Yet, it was necessary to form parties in order to obtain what he wanted. Taking on the Green Forest Dungeon himself was not that much of a challenge, and it was not like he was attempting to set a record either. The only issue was that the Hidden BOSS only spawned when a team of at least two challenged the dungeon. True, Ye Xiu could simply go back to the front desk and rent out the computer next to him, raise another account on the new server, and use both desktops at the same time, but he did not have the time to do so at the moment.

It would take him another two hours to complete the novice series of quests, and honestly speaking, Ye Xiu did not have the patience to fight through the crowds a second time.

「 Lord Grim: Okay, standard chance distribution? 」

「 Sleeping Moon: Yes, dice rolls. Everyone ready? Let’s go. 」

Without another word, the party entered the dungeon. His ears rang painfully when he heard someone shout, “Holy shit! How fucking lucky are we? A Hidden BOSS spawned!”

He winced. Right, voice chat was a thing in regular Glory gameplay, unlike in the Alliance where the speech support was disabled. Turning down the volume to minimal levels, he allowed a soft chuckle to echo into his mic, faintly hearing reciprocal laughter from the rest of the party.

Even if he had no trust in his party members, he couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips.

Yes, _this_ was Glory.

Not endless hours arguing over battle tactics and team management, not wondering whether enough money was flowing in, not struggling to lead a team that lost their faith in him.

As they progressed through the dungeon, however, strange murmurs reached his ears.

“A Hidden BOSS? Can we even kill it?”

“It didn’t happen last time.”

“We weren’t there because Sleeping Moon wanted it all, remember?”

“Yea, but it spawned a second time, during the run you weren’t there for because you went to get a new skill.”

“Right, what happened?”

“Wipe out; that outsider died first. We tried and still died. But we’re stronger now, so it should be okay.”

“True, now hurry, we’re lagging behind.”

The words churned in Ye Xiu’s head. This party was lucky enough to encounter a Hidden BOSS in a previous dungeon raid? Let alone _twice_? Yet, the system had not aired an announcement about the Hidden BOSS kill being claimed. _How peculiar,_ Ye Xiu mused.

The simplest conclusion was the party being wiped out, yet the words of those close to the party leader, Sleeping Moon, suggested that the dungeon team had deliberately sabotaged themselves when facing the Hidden BOSS in order to seize all the rewards.

Even as a frown crept its way onto Ye Xiu’s face, his pace did not falter. Lord Grim raised Myriad Manifestations Umbrella in a timely manner, illuminating his fellow party members in a shower of light. For now, he was playing as a pseudo-cleric. He did not expect that to remain the same the entire dungeon.

Clouds slowly blanketed the stars and moon beneath a cover of darkness. An eerie green glow continued to shine through, giving the party just enough light to proceed. Leaves rustled, branches snapping. Even for veterans of the game, the background effects combined with the knowledge that signs of a Hidden BOSS were present within this dungeon instance led to a brewing storm of paranoia.

Ye Xiu at first thought the wind was playing with the tall grass surrounding them, but the sound was too rhythmic to be natural.

“It’s here,” he voiced, startling his agitated party. With a few light taps, Lord Grim spun on the spot, facing the direction of the rustling grass.

His reaction was not a moment too soon, a black shadow pouncing toward Lord Grim immediately. Initiating a Roll, Lord Grim evaded the Midnight Phantom Cat’s claws, retaliating with a Dragon Tooth that pierced the Hidden BOSS’s throat. With Lord Grim’s unspecialized build, however, not much damage was done, but the most important effect of the skill at his current level was its stun effect.

Dazed, the Midnight Phantom Cat froze slightly, giving Ye Xiu’s ragtag party time to act.

“Fall back!” Sleeping Moon shouted, rushing forward to take over the aggro.

Lord Grim backed off, Ye Xiu subconsciously bringing his avatar to the Midnight Phantom Cat’s blind spot. He watched silently as Sleeping Moon smoothly sliced away at the Hidden BOSS, utilizing skills when necessary to block and strike with optimal strength.

Even with Sleeping Moon’s rather high ability, the amount that could be utilized at this stage of the game was small. The Midnight Phantom Cat flipped in mid-air, extending a clawed paw out—gleaming silver in the darkness. A slash sent Sleeping Moon stumbling, but a quick heal restored the health lost.

Seven Fields took advantage of the Hidden BOSS landing in a roll to counter with a Front Kick, knocking the feline BOSS upward. Sunset Clouds cut in, Upward Slash shining faintly as it connected and kept the BOSS in the air. Sleeping Moon, recovered, activated Lunge, several strikes piercing the Midnight Phantom Cat’s flesh. When those slitted eyes turned to face the party leader, Drifting Water roared, Provoke drawing the Hidden BOSS’ attention toward the Knight. At that, the other three damage-dealers began unleashing normal attack after normal attack at the feline, activating a skill whenever it came off cooldown. The Midnight Phantom Cat’s health was steadily chipped away, but not once did its ferocity lessen, increasing with intensity as its health bar fell closer to the red line.

The constant barrage of attacks and skills was uncoordinated, however, with the damage output spinning out of control. Ye Xiu shook his head, yet did his best to keep them alive. If he had not known better, he thought they were mere beginners panicking, but his suspicions proved true.

This party intended to induce the BOSS to go OT and attack him, whose aggro would continuously grow with each heal he casted.

Ye Xiu had too little trust in this party, however, and overestimated their ability to manage aggro. Sleeping Moon, Seven Fields, Sunset Clouds, and Drifting Water—a party consisting of two Blade Masters, a Striker, and a Knight—had been wiped out before by the Midnight Phantom Cat. Its sudden appearance caused them to panic and fall out of formation. Even if they wanted to deliberately cause Lord Grim to die in order to seize all the Hidden BOSS drops, their fear and poor mechanics at the moment would have caused the plan to fail at a single strike.

With how reckless the party was fighting, it was not a surprise that the Midnight Phantom Cat went OT just before its berserker state activated. The feline bounded out of the encirclement, springing forward off its hind legs toward the pseudo-healer just off to the side.

In all honesty, Ye Xiu could have stopped healing the party at any time and conserved his mana. He could have allowed the party to die one by one and reap all the rewards for himself. Soloing the Midnight Phantom Cat would hardly be a challenge for an expert at his level, but...he glanced at the party panel. Those players truly did seem to be giving it their all, which meant the OT was because of their incompetence rather than greed.

In a flash, the Myriad Manifestations Umbrella shifted into a lance. A Sky Strike repelled the hidden BOSS, a Shuriken flying at its face causing the feline to flinch. Tumbling backward in the air and unable to right itself, the Midnight Phantom Cat was sent sprawling. Wave Splitting Sword dealt out a decent amount of damage, locking down the aggro onto his avatar firmly.

“What are you doing? Attack!” Ye Xiu commanded. Waking from their daze, the rest of the party began launching out attacks as well. Lord Grim continued tanking the hidden BOSS’ aggro, however, his damage consistently higher with his larger range of skills.

Even when the Midnight Phantom Cat finally went berserk, causing the others to falter, Ye Xiu remained calm, fingers casually tapping against the keys. An explosion from a Machine Trace that he had cast moments before sent the feline back into the air. He kept chaining knock-up skill after knock-up skill, not letting the Hidden BOSS down once. Combined with the damage dealt by the rest of the party, the Midnight Phantom Cat could not hold on, dissipating into pixels mid-air and dropping down item after item. Ye Xiu, upon spotting a few of the materials he needed, crinkled his eyes in brief happiness.

**【 Tenth Server: Midnight Phantom Cat — Hidden BOSS First Kill: Sleeping Moon, Seven Fields, Sunset Clouds, Drifting Water, Lord Grim 】**

At the system announcement, the other party members seemed to realize what they had just achieved.

“No way, we’re on TV?!”

“I can’t...can’t believe we did it.”

“I’m...I’m alive.”

“Who the fuck are you?”  Sleeping Moon directed his question at Lord Grim, who simply began casting heal on himself. The Bleed status had steadily been depleting his health bar, so the casted recovery magic solved that issue neatly.

Once done healing himself, Lord Grim leaned against a nearby tree, resting to recover his spent stamina. “Someone who loves Glory,” was all Ye Xiu said.

Sleeping Moon would narrow his eyes if he could, but the gleaming loot on the ground drew his attention away from the resting enigma easily. After briefly glancing at his party, he sighed.

“You can have first pick. We would have died if you weren’t here,” he begrudgingly admitted. Whether he had learned his lesson from their past failure of a deliberate-OT or not, this expert masquerading on that smurf account was too skilled for them to betray in an ambush. They would likely be killed by that strange umbrella weapon if they tried.

「 Obtained: x5 Cat Fingernails 」

「 Obtained: x1 Cat Fur Breastplate 」

「 Obtained: x2 Midnight Cat Fingernails 」

「 Obtained: x1 Midnight Cat Claw 」

「 Obtained: x1 Midnight Opal 」

「 Obtained: x1 Skill Book 」

“I only want the skill book, Midnight Cat Fingernails, and Midnight Opal. You can split the rest among yourselves.” Ye Xiu ruthlessly took what he wanted, included the coveted skill book, and left the useless drops for the others.

Grumbling ensued, but the party accepted their allocation, still wary yet in awe of Lord Grim’s skill for soloing the Hidden BOSS while it was berserk.

Ye Xiu caught sight of the time and frowned. “I can only be on for another two hours. Do you want to continue dungeoning together, or shall I look for another team,” he said frankly.

Caught off guard, Sleeping Moon and his fellow guild members looked at each other, a flurry of whispers erupting. In the end, the fact that an expert was willing to guide them was too tempting of a boon so early in the game. “Green Forest or Spider Cave?”

Considering the two different dungeons for a moment, Ye Xiu answered, “Spider Cave. I can solo Green Forest on my own time with an alt.” Spider Cave was still meant for players at least two levels above his own, Lord Grim having reached level 8 after claiming the Last Hit for the Midnight Phantom Cat.

The party cleared the rest of the dungeon and dispersed back to town, returning with new skills and equipment to tackle Spider Cave. A party from Blue Rain had already claimed the First Clear for the dungeon, but the Hidden BOSS First Kills were still up for grabs in regards to the three Hidden BOSSes of Spider Cave.

The members of the Full Moon guild had not expected to encounter any of the Spider Cave Hidden BOSSes, but with Ye Xiu on their team and his broken destiny-tied luck, their expectations were shattered.

**【 Tenth Server: Spider Elite — Hidden BOSS First Kill: Sleeping Moon, Seven Fields, Sunset Clouds, Drifting Water, Lord Grim 】**

**【 Tenth Server: Spider Warrior — Hidden BOSS First Kill: Sleeping Moon, Seven Fields, Sunset Clouds, Drifting Water, Lord Grim 】**

**【 Tenth Server: Spider Emperor — Hidden BOSS First Kill: Sleeping Moon, Seven Fields, Sunset Clouds, Drifting Water, Lord Grim 】**

After clearing all three of Spider Cave’s Hidden BOSSes, Ye Xiu continued to lead the party through more runs, the other players becoming more amazed at his skill and later his leadership. First pick of drops went to him, but he only took what he needed to upgrade Myriad Manifestations Umbrella, leaving the rest to the wide-eyed party members. His playing time was limited, however, so when the sun just began peeking above the horizon, Ye Xiu bid his farewell, adding the party members as friends before closing the game client.

Stretching his back, Ye Xiu pulled Lord Grim’s account card out of the reader and gathered his things, kicking the rolling chair gently back into place as he left. His body was trembling slightly from the lack of nicotine in his bloodstream, but he hated his realized dependence on smokes and was attempted to rid himself of it. This newfound chance at life, at Glory, at Divinity, was not going to end because of a mere cause like _lung cancer_ of all things.

As Ye Xiu walked down the streets back to the inn, he couldn’t help but gaze up at the sky. Was it just him, or was the sun especially bright today? His steps gained a lightness to it. The air was fresh and chilled, but it revitalized him, reminded him that the world was now open to him freely. No longer bound to an aged kaya board, no longer fading with each passing day, no longer a shade of himself; he was whole—no, he was more than whole.

When Ye Xiu walked back into his rented room, a bag of fresh fried dough sticks in his hands, he was smiling. Su Mucheng, having just roused, was stunned. That smile, she had thought it gone forever. Eyes tearing slightly, she smiled brilliantly as well. “Good Morning, Brother Xiu.”

“Good Morning, Mucheng.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Narrative based off of the poem 涼州詞 Liangzhou Ci by 王翰 Wang Han
> 
> OT = off-tank, when the aggro (the mob's level of aggression, focused on whoever dealt the most damage unless skills are used to draw aggro) turns away from whoever is acting as tank (read, meat shield)  
> Smurf account = an alternate account an expert/experienced player uses in order to pretend to be inexperienced/weak
> 
>  
> 
> ~~do I need to add footnotes for this gaming lingo? I assume it should be basic knowledge after reading TKA...~~


End file.
